Stiles

This was a mistake. Why didn't he just stay at home like Derek wanted him to? Why did he think that he could just wing it at Derek's work and no one would notice? Who knew that timber harvesting was more than just chopping down trees? And how was he supposed to know that Jared would be there? Who would have thought that Derek worked for hunters? Like, seriously, what the fuck?!

But more importantly, the guy was such a jerk! Stiles couldn't believe he wanted to have sex with him. Really dodged a bullet there. Jared kept casually talking down to Stiles, not outright bashing but this kind of obnoxious subtle shade in every word with an occasional threat thrown in the mix. Stiles wondered what exactly did Jared have on Derek, for him to allow this douchebag to act this way.

Surprisingly enough, Derek's wolf was entirely unaffected, as if Jared was just a pest he barely noticed, so Stiles kept his mouth shut and didn't bite through his jugular (the temptation was there though). The other Wilson brother was not as bad. He complained that Derek kept canceling shifts, which was a legit criticism, but other than that he was constructive and all about business.

The highlight of the day was Derek's coworker Mickey. Stiles had seen him before when he came over to exchange their phones. Derek introduced him as his friend and Stiles instantly liked him, because the way Mickey smiled at him was pure sunshine, as If Stiles was his favorite person ever. He was a bit older than Stiles, with a similar build and black longish hair that kept falling into his eyes, though Stiles had a feeling it was deliberate to cover the shiner there.

The chipped front tooth did not ruin his smile at all and it was contagious enough that Stiles found himself beaming back at him several times, before remembering that he was supposed to be Derek and he was breaking character. If Mickey noticed it, he didn't say anything, though he did send him several quizzing looks when Stiles kept being reprimanded for standing in the wrong places or doing "dumb shit". It's not that a falling tree could actually hurt a werewolf, but basic safety rules applied to everyone without exception.

Thankfully after a couple of bloopers, Stiles got a hang of it and stopped getting under everyone's feet. He didn't think Derek would be too happy if he got himself fired.

During the lunch break, Mickey took off his jacket, revealing a hideously looking knitted sweater.

"How do I look?" he asked, grinning as he slowly turned around with his hands raised.

Stiles just stared at the monstrosity he was wearing. That was one ugly sweater. And not intentionally ugly like people wear on Christmas. No, this one was handmade and unintentionally dreadful.

Mickey apparently expected a response, so Stiles went with a safe option, clearing his throat and nodding with a serious expression on his face. "Wow."

"Haha, that bad, huh?" Mickey's laughter was so carefree, Stiles couldn't help chuckling along.

"Worse," he admitted.

"Yeah," Mickey agreed, studying his crooked sleeves. "I guess you should stick to the socks and blankets."

Come again?

"Are you saying that Der… I did this?" No way was Derek knitting. No fucking way.

Mickey laughed again, playfully punching his shoulder. "Come on, it's not all bad. Not even this one. It's actually quite snugly. I like it. Honest!"

Yes, Derek was knitting. Stiles wanted to burst out laughing but he couldn't do that with so many witnesses around, he already smiled far too much for the regular Derek self. He pinched himself and cleared his throat again to ask more about Derek's peculiar hobby, but that's when Jared appeared behind Mickey and claimed his mouth in a long salacious kiss.

Stiles's jaw dropped.

"I'm off, babe, come over after work."

A regular human would have missed Mickey's barely audible "yes, Daddy" in reply, but Stiles was a werewolf now. Werewolves heard even stuff they didn't want to know. He must have failed to fix his expression by the time Jared left, because Mickey wrapped his hands around himself, looking defensive.

"Don't give me this look," he said, rubbing his forehead tiredly. "I told you, he apologized."

"Apologized?" Stiles frowned and then his eyes fell on the bruise on Mickey's face. "Wait, he did this to you?!"

"You are not funny." Mickey stood up, clearly hurt, and Stiles realized that he must have hit the nail on the head.

"No, Mickey, wait." Stiles grabbed his hand to stop him. Derek obviously knew about Mickey's mistreatment, so the question must have sounded as if he was mocking him. "I'm sorry. You know how I'm always such a dick, right? So this is nothing new. I just…" he trailed off searching for words, "you shouldn't be with someone who would do this."

Micky sighed as if they've had this conversation many times before and he was tired of it. "Yes, Derek, he has his faults, but he apologized and he wants me back. He loves me and I love him. And I know it's not all butterflies and rainbows, but relationships rarely are. Not that I expect someone as emotionally constipated as you to understand it, but at least you could stop being so judgmental! I already get enough shit from my sister, I don't need you adding to it."

Mickey turned to leave but Stiles couldn't let the conversation end this way. "I saw him with Stiles!" he blurted. "They were at the Shelf and they were meeting up for sex!"

Mickey stopped and whipped around, looking even more hurt than before. "Why would you say something like this?!"

"Because it's the truth. They have been texting for a few days and Jared was very straightforward with his intentions, and he never mentioned having anyone." Stiles took out his phone, showing him the conversation to prove his words.

"Why do you have Stiles's phone again?" Mickey asked suspiciously, refusing to look.

"We have similar phone cases and we keep confusing them." The lie was unconvincing at best, and Mickey was not buying it, so Stiles added a bit of truth. "We have been hanging out together for the past few days. There is, uh… an issue."

"An issue?" Mickey's skepticism was so thick it was almost palpable. "What issue? You have been acting weird as fuck."

Stiles ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Just… ask me tomorrow, maybe I'll tell you. But more importantly, look at this," he thrust the phone in his face, "this is real. This is Jared describing all the things he would like to do to Stiles."

Mickey's expression changed from frown to recognition and then he turned away in disgust.

"They didn't," Stiles said quickly since he didn't want Mickey to hate him, "I busted their date before it got anywhere and Stiles won't be seeing him again. And neither should you."

Mickey didn't say anything. He didn't have to, Stiles could smell every emotion he was feeling as easily as if it was his own. And he hated it. Hated killing the sunshine, hated putting that look on Mickey's face, but he figured better that than another black eye.

xxx

Derek

High school was pain. Derek never liked studying and treated it as a necessary evil, but as years went by, the memories of long boring lessons were crowded out by the more happy ones of fun with friends and his family still being alive… Yes, those were "the times".

Now? Not so much. Stiles must have been obnoxiously active during class because everyone kept asking Derek if he was alright simply because he wasn't raising his hand or participating in discussions. His plan was to call as little attention to himself as possible, taking notes and staying quiet, but apparently, that was so out of character for Stiles, it had the exact opposite effect.

And to make matters worse, the teachers kept calling on him asking if he knew the answer whenever the question was met with silence. It was embarrassing because Derek not only had no clue about most of the topics discussed, but he also had to face the constant disappointment of failed expectations in him. Then, during a break, he had to turn down several people who wanted him to explain a math problem they were struggling with.

Derek didn't remember the last time he felt this impotent.

Actually, he did. When he was forced to watch Boyd and Erica being tortured, with the only option to put them out of their misery being to kill them and become a part of the Alpha pack. Derek still had nightmares. He could still hear their screams, smell their pain, taste his own helplessness and wallow in shame of his failure to protect them. If it wasn't for Scott, Stiles, Isaac, and others… They would be gone and it would have been his fault. He was one useless shitty Alpha.

As he dragged his tired human self back to his loft, all he wanted was some peace and quiet, but what he found there, was neither. It was an invasion of his privacy and an attack on his dignity.

Music blared throughout the apartment, some generic pop song he couldn't bother to remember, and the sight he was met with left him speechless. The little shit was dancing his ass off, hips swinging, limbs flailing, which in itself would be enough to annoy Derek as it put his reputation on the line, but it was his finished AND unfinished knitting projects spread evenly all over the sofa and some of them directly on Stiles, that really made his blood boil.

"What the fuck do you think you are doing?!" he bellowed over the music.

Stiles just laughed and reduced the volume a bit. "Picking your outfit for tomorrow. I think this scarf goes really well with these socks and this headband. What do you think, grandma?"

Derek felt his cheeks flame, as he tried to grab the shawl wrapped around Stiles's neck, but Stiles easily evaded his hand, continuing to hop around to the beat. "Stop it. Give it b- Stiles! It's not finished!" He was working on that shawl for 2 weeks and Stiles was about to ruin it!

"Oh, my apologies," Stiles said, sounding entirely unapologetic, but he returned the shawl to Derek and picked another one with a terribly executed rib stitch pattern. It was one of his first ones, ok? There was sentimental value! "Does anyone know? I bet no one knows that the big bad Alpha is spending his evenings knitting socks and blankets."

Derek gritted his teeth, lamenting the lack of fangs and claws of his current body. It was not like he kept this to himself because he was embarrassed about knitting, it was because he knew that this would be the reaction. Fucking teenagers. What bothered him even more was the fact that Stiles shamelessly went through his stuff to find it and that was NOT okay!

Derek turned off the music. "Sit your ass down, right now!" he ordered, pointing at the sofa.

As expected, the wolf inside the body assured Stiles's compliance, though it did nothing to wipe the smile off his face. Perhaps Derek should have told him to bend over rather than sit down. If ever there was a good reason to give the little shit a good ass-whooping, it was now. Too bad he was in the wrong body to do it.

Derek paced in front of the grinning idiot searching for words to best convey his feelings, but then gave up and settled on simple, "What the fuck, Stiles?"

"Come on, I didn't do anything to your precious knitting, I merely-"

"No, what the fuck were you thinking snooping around?" Derek growled, gesticulating around him for emphasis.

"Oh." Stiles looked as if he only now realized why Derek might have taken issue with that. "Well, I didn't really…" he trailed off, because no, no one was gonna buy that excuse. "Ok, I did. But in my defense, after seeing that sweater on Mickey, I would probably burst if I didn't."

"What?! How did you…" Then it dawned on him. "You went to work. Of course, you would do the exact opposite of what you are told!" Derek threw his hands in the air in exasperation. Though knowing Stiles, he shouldn't have been surprised.

"You went to my school, so-"

"Because you asked me to. I told you to stay home!"

"Yes, but-"

"No buts, Stiles! You can't just improvise your way into a logging site. You can get people killed!"

That left an impression because Stiles leaned further into the cushions as if trying to become one with the sofa. "It wasn't that bad," he said somewhat sheepishly.

"Wasn't that bad?" Derek took a calming breath before continuing in a deceptively quiet voice, "I swear, Stiles, if you are about to tell me that you fucked with my job, you are going to regret it."

Though truth be told, he wasn't exactly owning it at school for Stiles either, and not just academically. Scott spent the entire lunch break killing his brain cells with his Kira versus Allison drama, which was arguably worse than Math and English Lit combined. In Derek's opinion, both girls would be better off without him. And yes, he might have said it out loud too. And Scott might have taken offense. But, whatever, Stiles could deal with him later. Right now there were more pressing matters.

Stiles crossed arms on his chest, going from defiance to pouting and while Derek hated seeing this expression on his own face, it still beat the smug one from before. "What happened to me being pack?" he asked sulkily.

"Right, wanna know what I do with Betas who disobey me?" No, Derek didn't spank anyone, but he wasn't surprised when he saw the intense blush take over Stiles's cheeks.

"I'm the Alpha now," Stiles argued, though his tone lost the fighting edge and he had a hard time maintaining eye contact.

"Only for a few more hours."

And that was both a threat and a promise. And at the time, Derek absolutely meant it. Stiles crossed one too many lines lately and something had to be done about it. But as the evening went on, the initial anger mellowed out and he could once again think rationally:

1) Stiles had good intentions and he didn't get him fired, so that was good.

2) He also saw Jared in all his glory, which ensured that he won't be getting anywhere near him in the future - another problem solved.

3) And he even tried to persuade Mickey to do the same, which was admirable (though Derek was not as optimistic about his success as Stiles was).

All in all, by the time midnight came, Derek was back to being calm and collected. Of course, he would lie if he said that he didn't enjoy the nervous anticipation radiating from Stiles as the swap-time was getting closer. The boy was much more subdued for the rest of the evening, which they spent doing research that yet again didn't lead them anywhere.

Fifteen minutes after midnight, Derek was happily back to his own body. All small aches and annoyances, like gritty eyes after prolonged staring at the monitor or a small bruise on his elbow which he kept accidentally bumping against, were gone and his loyal feral companion was back.

"How is it that whenever I get back to my own body, I find new injuries I didn't have before?" Stiles groaned, examining his arms.

"Might I remind you, that most of those are from you because you can't be assed to mind your strength?" Derek said dryly.

Stiles hmphed but didn't argue. "So what now?"

When Derek didn't immediately reply, Stiles's pulse accelerated and Derek smirked, slowly folding his arms on his chest. He knew exactly what the little shit expected of him and while he had no intention to act on his threats, he was in no hurry to put him at ease either.

Stiles's eyes slid down to Derek's forearms and Derek instinctively flexed them. Okay, so he might have studied Stiles's journal for a bit last night. It was morbid curiosity, nothing else! Stiles's breath caught and he licked his lips, pupils dilating, which finally brought Derek back to his senses. He was supposed to be dispelling Stiles's fantasies, not adding to them!

"Go home," he said, letting his hands drop back to his sides. He watched Stiles's face fall but refused to be affected by the bitter scent of disappointment his words produced. And failed.

For a moment, Stiles looked like he might say something. Something snappy or sarcastic. Something to bait Derek into punishing him. But then he just took his phone and wished him good night, leaving Derek with a hollow feeling of loneliness and the air reeking of unfulfilled expectations.

xxx

Derek could still smell his frustration the next day, though he couldn't tell how much of it was due to his inaction and how much was due to the general fatigue over their ongoing situation. Stiles was not openly rude, but the attitude left much to be desired and was grating on Derek's nerves. Sprawled on the sofa, Stiles's fingers kept hitting the keyboard way stronger than necessary, accompanied by heavy sighing and an occasional snort. Derek assumed he was doing research, but when he peeked at the monitor, he saw a Reddit thread.

"Please remind me, why are you here again?" he asked, unable to keep displeasure out of his voice. If Stiles wanted to fuck around on the internet, he could just as well do it at home.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe because in a few hours I will be thrust back into your body and unlike you, I'm actually trying to find a way to prevent it?"

Derek raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "By arguing about the latest Batman movie on Reddit?"

"No," Stiles said emphatically, showing Derek a parallel subreddit on witchcraft. But Derek was not born yesterday, he clicked on the next tab and pointed at the half-written answer in a long Batman thread. Stiles snatched his notebook back, hiding blush behind a scowl. "And what are you doing?"

"Taxes." Derek didn't feel the need to justify himself. Certainly not to Stiles and certainly not with that attitude.

"Helpful. Might as well be knitting."

Derek felt his hackles raise. For someone who was supposedly madly in love with him, Stiles could certainly stand to treat him a little nicer. Not that Derek was particularly nice either but… Ok, fine, Derek was a dick himself, so what did he expect really?

He exhaled slowly, swallowing all the scathing remarks on his tongue and focusing again on the papers in front of him. He could just kick Stiles out of the loft, and a month ago, he would have probably done just that, but for whatever reason, the animal inside of him liked Stiles's company even when he was being a little shit, and Derek didn't want to spend the evening catering to his sulking wolf.

Derek's silence seemed to only further irritate Stiles, whose fingers went back to smashing the keyboard. When this failed to get a rise from him, Stiles gave up and set the notebook aside.

"What could one possibly do to a woman for her to hold such a grudge?" he mused, addressing no one in particular.

Derek rolled his eyes so hard, his head almost went with them. "How many times do I have to repeat it? I haven't slept with her!"

"Well, then maybe you slept with her boyfriend?"

"Yes, this must be it," Derek deadpanned. "How would I even know?! It's not like I ask that!"

"Of course you don't."

Derek's jaw clenched. "Stiles? You are pushing it," he growled, forcing his wolf to back down.

"I'm not pushing it, I'm trying to solve your drama, while you are just sitting here being useless as usual!"

"And now you are just asking for it."

Stiles tilted his head to the side and sneered. "Well, too bad you are not man enough to do it then."

That did it.

Before Derek could think it through and talk himself out of it, he did the only thing that felt natural at the moment. He grabbed Stiles by the arm and threw him over his knee, pinning him down and landing a hefty smack on his ass. "Is that what you want?"

"Yes! I mean no!"

Derek raised his hand for another and held it there. "So which is it?"

"Wha-what are you d-doing?"

"I think you know exactly what I am doing." But just in case it wasn't obvious, Derek let his hand fall once more, the slap resonating in the empty loft.

Stiles sucked in a breath. "You… you… you read my journal?" His voice trembled a bit, mortification setting in.

"Yes, I did," Derek confirmed, smacking him again. "Kinky little shit." He couldn't see Stiles's face, but his bright red ears were just as telling. Derek decided to use the color as a reference for the task at hand.

"You had no right! That's private!" Stiles fumed. His indignation failed to conceal his embarrassment, Derek refused to feel bad though.

"You went through my stuff. I think we are square," he said calmly, raising his hand again. "Or we are going to be in a couple minutes."

With that, he proceeded to spank Stiles's butt, while the little shit groaned and wiggled on his lap. Derek made sure to keep his strength in human range but other than that, he was not holding back. After all, Stiles was getting exactly what he was asking for, and he did not even try to break free.

Derek's wolf took a back seat and simply cheered him on, satisfied that Derek was finally exerting his dominance over the troublesome pack member. The fact that the said member was getting off on the whole thing, did not seem to bother the wolf. For some reason, it did not bother Derek either.

As he was getting in the rhythm, Stiles's hand shot back to shield his butt and Derek readily swiped it out of the way, pinning it on the small of his back.

"Nooo," Stiles whined in response.

xxx

Stiles

As soon as the word left his mouth, he wished he could take it back because Derek immediately stopped smacking him. Regret seeped through him, as he silently berated himself for not keeping his stupid mouth shut.

The protest slipped out instinctively because he got carried away, not because he actually meant it. The spanking was nowhere near as unbearable as he always imagined it would be. Heroes in fiction certainly made it sound that way, crying and begging for it to stop from the very first swats. But then again, half of the dudes in SpankingTube videos barely made a sound, as if they could not feel it at all, so there was a chance the stories were exaggerating. Stiles absolutely did feel it - it hurt, just not in a way that would make him want it to end. Not yet at least.

"Is that a 'no' no, or a 'yes, I deserve this and so much more for all the shit I've been pulling' kind of no?" Derek asked, his right hand still raised in the air, while his left kept holding him down.

Stiles's face burned at the phrasing. Was he really this easy to read? He tried to swallow his embarrassment and croaked a barely audible, "The latter."

"Alright, get up."

Stiles scrambled to his feet, fighting the bitter taste of disappointment that his long-awaited wet dream ended before it properly started. But then when Derek didn't let him go and reached for the button of his jeans, Stiles anxiously grabbed him by the wrist.

Derek raised an eyebrow. "I thought you wanted a real spanking," he said, stressing the words that always made Stiles's stomach flip upside down.

And, boy oh boy, did it now. Stiles opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out as more heat colored his face. He didn't think it was possible to get any redder.

"Hands behind your head."

Stiles did as he was told, still feeling like the whole thing was surreal. He was aroused and scared and excited and mortified and happy and just... wow. Derek was reenacting one of his fantasies and he didn't know how to feel about it. He kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Derek to laugh at him or show a hidden camera, but it was still worth the risk. Stiles would never forgive himself if he didn't take this opportunity.

Derek unbuttoned his jeans and went for the zipper but then stopped and looked at him. "Pick a word for a "no" no."

"Huh?"

"You're about to have your ass beat. Properly. If you want me to ignore your cries and pleas, it's in your best interest to have something I won't ignore."

Cries and pleas? As if.

"I'm not going to…" Stiles shook his head. "I don't want anything."

"Pineapple it is."

The cringiest fucking safeword. "I said I don't-"

"Shut up and don't be an idiot," Derek cut him off sternly. "According to your teachers, you actually possess a brain. Use it. 'Pineapple' for stop, got it?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

Stiles's breath hitched in his throat. Derek was quoting one of the scenarios he wrote down!

"Yes, Sir."

He never thought he would get to call Derek that. Not without laughing his ass off at the same time. Not without Derek scowling and promising him a painful death afterward. And here they were - Stiles too nervous to laugh and Derek smirking as if he actually liked the title. Stiles wanted to pinch himself to make sure it was really happening, alas his hands were ordered to be on his head. Meanwhile, Derek's hands were already pulling down his jeans, and it took everything Stiles had in him to keep his own where he was supposed to. He was pretty sure he would lose that particular battle if Derek decided to do the same with his boxers, but thankfully, he did not, and tipped Stiles back over his knees instead.

"Get comfortable, you will be here for a while."

Another quote? Wow, Derek got really inspired by that journal. Stiles's hopes that he somehow missed all the juicy parts about Stiles's obsessive love-condition were getting dimmer by the minute.

Without further ado, Derek began spanking him again and Stiles had to admit that with one layer less, the experience got quite a bit more painful.

"Oww."

"You asked for this," Derek commented without a grain of compassion. "And you have quite a few things to answer for, starting with your attitude, constant disobedience, zero respect for personal boundaries-"

"That's not true!" Stiles protested and Derek halted his hand.

"Which part?"

"I respect personal boundaries."

"Oh, really?" Derek's words were drenched in sarcasm. "Let's see: you went through my things-"

"You are the one to talk!"

"-you took nudes in my body-"

"I apologized for that!"

"-you masturbated-"

"I thought I was hallucinating!"

"In the evening too? Because I could still smell it the next day when I woke up, you little shit!"

Oh.

"And don't even get me started on all the things I read in that-"

"No!" No way was Derek bringing up his diary! "You can't hold anything you read there against me!"

"Watch me," Derek growled without missing a beat and resumed spanking his ass with newfound vigor.

Ok. Ok. Ok. So it did hurt. Still not in a way to make him bawl his eyes out and beg for mercy, but certainly in a way that made him eager to crawl out of the line of fire. Not that Derek let him. Keeping Stiles in position posed no problem for a werewolf.

"Ow, ow, ok, fine, I'm sorry!"

"If this is how you phrase it, then you are definitely not." Derek didn't even pause, if anything he spanked even harder, making Stiles really squirm.

Stiles was torn on whether he welcomed it or not. You see, the difference between writing about spanking and receiving one is that describing pain is certainly easier than feeling it. Stiles only had experience with the former, so in his fantasies, Derek would not stop till Stiles was one big pile of tears and regret. In reality, Stiles wouldn't mind if Derek stopped right about now. Or now. Or, yes, definitely now. Please!

The last bit might have been verbalized because Derek ceased his onslaught with a very casual, if not outright bored, "Hm?"

Stiles wondered if Derek even realized how much it hurt, or if he just assumed that since Stiles fantasized about it, it somehow protected him from the pain. Still, the reprieve was a welcomed one, and Stiles intended for it to last.

"I'm sorry."

"For?" Still the same casual tone, as if Derek never moved on from doing his taxes and this whole thing was just a product of Stiles's imagination. His aching butt spoke to the contrary though.

"Attitude."

"And?"

"Going to your work."

"And?"

"Snooping around."

"And?"

"Jesus, I don't know, breaking your table?"

"Stiles."

"What? You were pretty pissed, promising to break all my bo-Oww!" The rest of the words got drowned in the yelp, as Derek went back to expressing his displeasure on his poor backside.

"You know, the perks of being a werewolf is that you don't tire easily. My palm barely tickles, I can sit here busting your butt for hours. The question is, can you?"

Stiles could not. He most definitely could not. "Alright, alright, fine, I'm sorry for breaching the sanctity of that precious body of yours!"

Derek stopped spanking him and sighed. "Are you sure that this is how you want the apology to sound?" The seemingly inconspicuous question got so much more threatening when his hand grabbed the hem of Stiles's boxers. That sobered Stiles right up.

"No, no, no, wait, wait! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'll be more respectful. I won't be taking advantage again. I promise! Please don't!" The sudden panic that took over Stiles was not fully understandable even to himself, because a "proper spanking" in his mind was only ever delivered on the bare, and yet the prospect of imminent humiliation seemed downright nerve-racking.

Derek mercifully let go of his boxers and placed his hand back on his sore cheeks. "Twenty more. Count."

Stiles's brain lagged at the directive and caught up only at the fourth swat. Derek didn't wait for him and delivered all 20 in fast succession, aiming the blows at the infamous sit-spots and upper thighs, just like every fictional spanker seemed to do. Stiles had to admit that stories didn't lie about that part, the area was indeed more sensitive, or perhaps Derek just wanted to leave a lasting impression. Either way, Stiles bravely suffered through the rest, only losing count at the last three, mashing them together in one long painful wail.

And then it was over.

Derek released his wrist, but Stiles was in no hurry to get up, breathing heavily into the crook of his elbow. Now that the pain was no longer the height of his focus, his feelings were all over the place. He didn't know what to do or say and facing Derek was about as appealing as a rendezvous with a Wendigo.

Unfortunately, this was not up to him and all too soon, strong hands were gently pulling him upright while Derek's inquisitive eyes studied his face. Maintaining eye contact was impossible and Stiles dropped his gaze, focusing on Derek's knees that not a minute ago supported his weight.

Derek cleared his throat but didn't say anything. It was obvious that he was at a loss, just like Stiles was, which in turn only fueled Stiles's urge to flee. His chest was getting tighter with every passing second, so he quickly pulled up his jeans and gesticulated towards the bathroom. "I'll… uh.. be right back."

Closing the door behind him, Stiles turned on the faucet and splashed his face with cold water. It didn't help. His throat constricted and his eyes stung, as he fought a losing battle with a sudden flood of emotions. It was ridiculous, why was he crying? It didn't hurt that bad. Actually, now it didn't hurt at all. The lingering soreness was kinda pleasant, so why was he suddenly falling apart?

The knock on the door came at the worst moment. Stiles's puffy-eyed reflection was not something he wanted anyone to see. Least of all Derek.

"Just a minute," he called, hoping his voice didn't give away his tears. He thought, he sounded convincing, and yet the door still opened.

"Stiles? Are y- what the hell?!"

Shit.

xxx

Derek

Oh, shit. He fucked up. He sooo fucked up. How did he miss the misery that was practically radiating from Stiles right now? Derek could swear he was fine just a minute ago and now… What the hell happened?

The boy turned away as soon as Derek entered, fruitlessly wiping at his face, as if it could somehow conceal his tears. "It's nothing," he said, his voice deceptively stable, but Derek was not fooled.

"It's not nothing. You are crying. You weren't crying before. What…? Did I hurt you?"

Of course you hurt him, you fucking idiot. What were you thinking?! Beating on a human! Moron!

Derek would have probably continued on his guilt trip if Stiles didn't turn around and there was not even a trace of hatred or anger on his face. "No, you did everything perfectly. Exactly as I wrote it."

Oh.

"But it wasn't what you were hoping for?"

"It was."

"So why are you upset?"

"I'm not, I'm just overwhelmed, ok?" Stiles snapped, clearly embarrassed. "Just give me a few minutes, please, I'll be fine."

The boy was back to staring at the sink and Derek wished there was a manual on what to do in such situations. Respecting Stiles's wishes, seemed to be an obvious choice, and yet, Derek's whole being protested against leaving a packmate alone in such condition. Especially since he was the one responsible for it.

The problem was that in Stiles's diary the spanking always led to either sex or proclamations of love, neither of which was a viable option, so Derek had to rely on his very modest knowledge of BDSM aftercare.

He went to the kitchen to get a glass of water and hurried back because he could sense that his absence did not bring expected relief but rather caused further distress. Stiles was sitting on the floor, back leaning against the tub, knees hugged to his chest and face buried in them. He was not crying anymore, but Derek's heart still panged at the sight. He handed Stiles the glass and took a seat next to him. When Stiles didn't protest, Derek hesitated for a bit but then tentatively wrapped a hand around his shoulders. He wished he could channel calmness the way his mom always did when he was upset, but even without that, Stiles relaxed fairly quickly and stopped emitting anxiety.

Encouraged, Derek pulled him closer, needing this comfort probably just as much as Stiles did. His wolf got quite a scare. Unlike Derek, he was very fond of Stiles and would be devastated if his actions drove a permanent wedge between them.

"Does it hurt? To sit?" he asked, ready to take the pain away if need be, but Stiles only shook his head with a chuckle.

"No. Not nearly as much as all the stories make it out to be. It hurt during, but it's not actually unpleasant now."

Stiles sounded and smelled happy again and it finally put Derek at ease. After the way he failed Erica and Boyd, traumatizing another pack member would have been the last straw. Though, given how Stiles snuggled into him, resting his head on his shoulder with a blissful smile, "traumatized" was not the word that came to mind.

"Have you done this before?" Stiles asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

"No. Not like this." Derek might have smacked his partners' asses during sex, sometimes even bringing out a nice rosy color, but only ever as foreplay. "But it's not exactly advanced math."

"Indeed." Stiles fell quiet for a moment and then added, "Because we know for a fact you can't do that."

Aaand the brat was back. Derek narrowed his eyes at him and then snorted. "I clearly didn't spank you hard enough."

"Nah, you did ok for your first time."

"Well if you don't keep your mouth in check, you will get some more dream-come-true happen to you very soon," Derek mock-threatened, patting his belt. He noted with satisfaction how Stiles's eyes widened and his pulse jumped with unease. If only Derek knew that this was all it took to shut the kid up, he would have been whooping him on a regular basis to preserve some peace and quiet. "So all these times you were a pain in the ass…?"

"Yes," Stiles confirmed what Derek guessed all along. All these times the little shit just wanted Derek to follow through on his threats and give him some "pain in the ass" back.

"Could have just asked for it."

"Uhm. No. Hell no. How do you imagine I was supposed to do that? Especially with you. No way." Stiles didn't look at him, gesticulating at the wall. Derek assumed this conversation was easier for him when they weren't facing each other directly. "Besides, if you read my journal, you know that asking for it would ruin the immersion. I want it to be a punishment."

"But is it really a punishment if you want it?"

"It still hurts."

"But you like it. I mean, you do like it, right?" After finding Stiles in tears, he wanted to make that part clear.

"I like the idea of being held accountable."

"That's not what your porn history suggests."

This time, Stiles did turn to look at him, his eyes wide with outrage. "Why would you even-"

Derek raised his palms in surrender. "You left it on, it was hard not to get an eyeful."

"Fine, it turns me on too, happy now?" Stiles snapped, his cheeks flushing red.

Derek could understand his embarrassment, but to be honest, after everything that happened between them, Derek finding his porn should have been the least of his worries. The early entries in his diary about Twilight and imprinting were far more disturbing in Derek's opinion.

"It's both," Stiles said quietly. "Why can't it be both?"

"I guess it can," Derek shrugged. People had different fetishes, and Stiles's one was not even that uncommon. "You have to be more careful though."

"Huh?"

"You need to vet people, Stiles. Make sure they are safe before going anywhere alone with them."

"I do. I mean I would if I ever met anyone."

Derek raised an eyebrow at that, and Stiles squirmed nervously beside him.

"Jared wasn't going to… I didn't tell him… It was just about sex."

As if that was better. Derek cast him an exasperated look.

"Fine, I'll be more careful." Stiles dropped his head in defeat.

"You better," Derek chided, though there was no real heat behind it. He had no doubt that Jared treated Stiles like dirt today, and then seeing bruises on Mickey's face was probably more impactful than whatever Derek could tell him. "And no blanket consents," he added as an afterthought.

Stiles frowned, confused.

"I don't care if having a safeword breaks your immersion or whatever, you do not give carte blanche to someone you don't even know. Not to mention that you can't know for sure what you do and do not like till you actually try it."

As a werewolf, Derek didn't technically need Stiles to have any safewords. He knew for a fact that he would be able to tell if it suddenly started to get too much for him - he was aware of his breathing patterns and heart rate, and could pretty much smell most of his emotions. But he read a thing or two about basic safety practices and would rather Stiles used them once he started approaching random people to play out his fantasies.

"It does ruin the immersion," Stiles said stubbornly.

"Well, you don't have to use it."

"It doesn't matter, just having an 'out' kinda kills it for me."

"Did it now?"

"Oh…" The look of sudden realization on Stiles's face was comical. "Well. No." He squirmed again. "I mean, I would have still preferred if there wasn't one, but…"

"You will have to compromise on that," Derek said firmly. "At least till you find somebody you trust and you get to know each other well enough to forgo the safewords."

Stiles looked at him and bit his lip. He clearly wanted to ask something but couldn't find the courage. Truth be told, he didn't have to, because Derek could read him as easily as if he said it. Stiles wanted him to be that person, that was a no-brainer. But Derek also knew that Stiles wanted him to be more than that - something that Derek could not be for him. He didn't want to acknowledge Stiles's feelings, because then he would have to turn him down and experience the pain it would inevitably cause. That was the last thing he needed right now and so, like a coward, he let the unvoiced question remain unanswered.